


I'm so sorry that you have to have a body

by magicpiano



Series: Joly Week 2021 [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Ableism, Alcohol, Canon Era, Disabled Character, Gen, Multi, Self-Worth Issues, argument between an established couple, disabled joly, like a lot of ableism guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29225106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicpiano/pseuds/magicpiano
Summary: Joly took a long sip of his drink for courage and admitted, “Musichetta and I had an argument.”
Relationships: Bahorel & Joly (Les Misérables), Joly/Bossuet Laigle/Musichetta, Joly/Musichetta
Series: Joly Week 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137797
Kudos: 17





	I'm so sorry that you have to have a body

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Joly week on tumblr.](https://jolyweek.tumblr.com/)
> 
> **Warnings:**  
>  Lots of ableism  
> Self-hatred / self-deprecation  
> Fight between an established couple (off screen)  
> This one is a bit heavy, please be warned.

“I don’t recall ever seeing you so distraught Joly.”

Bahorel startled Joly out of his thoughts by patting him roughly on the shoulder. He knew when he chose to drown his sorrows in the Musain, a place his friends often frequented, that he would be found eventually, but he thought he would be able to wallow a bit longer.

“Did something happen?” Bahorel asked, taking the seat next to Joly.

Joly considered ignoring the question. Bahorel wasn’t the type to push and would be more than willing to drink the dark thoughts away with Joly, but deep down he knew he picked somewhere his friends often came because he wanted to talk about things. There were other places to go if one wanted to drink alone.

Joly took a long sip of his drink for courage and admitted, “Musichetta and I had an argument.”

“You and Musichetta?” Bahorel’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “But you both get along so well.”

Joly’s shoulders sagged. “We did.”

“Is it over then?” Bahorel asked carefully.

Joly sucked in a harsh breath. “I—I am not sure.” He didn’t think their relationship had come to an end, but at the same time… “She was quite upset with me.”

Bahorel, the amazing friend that he was, just patted Joly’s shoulder comfortingly. “Do you want to talk about it, or get drunk?”

Joly deliberated for a moment before saying, “both?”

“I’ll get you a drink,” Bahorel squeezed his shoulder before doing just that.

Joly already had a drink, but he figured he could use another. Today seemed like a good day to get drunk, so he gratefully took what Bahorel offered him.

After downing half the bottle, Joly asked, suddenly serious, “do you think I belong here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do I belong here,” Joly gestured vaguely to the Musain around them, “with all of you?”

“Of course, you do!” Bahorel jumped up out of his chair, his expression suddenly vicious. “Did someone say something to you?”

“No, no, nothing like that.”

Bahorel made a fist and hit it against his other palm, a clear sign he was ready to punch something. “I would be more than happy to straighten them out.”

“No member of the Amis said anything of the sort,” Joly assured him. Bahorel looked skeptical but reluctantly took his seat again.

“Then why do you ask?”

Joly couldn’t help the little burst of self-deprecating laughter that left him. “Bahorel, I can’t walk right. We are planning a revolution and I can’t  _ walk _ .”

“Is this what your argument with Musichetta was about?” Bahorel asked. It was a blunt question but Bahorel had never been one for beating around the bush.

Joly nodded. “She doesn’t want me to take part in the revolution.”

Bahorel grimaced. “Does she not support our goals?”

“It is not our  _ goals _ that she has a problem with, it is  _ me _ .” When it came down to it, that was the part that hurt the most. If Musichetta didn’t agree with his politics, they could discuss it, but the fact that it was  _ personal _ , that she didn’t think he was good enough— “She said I would be killed in seconds.”

“I am sure that just means she loves you,” Bahorel was aiming for comforting, but missed. “It is natural to worry when someone you love goes into danger.”

“She didn’t object to Bossuet fighting, just me.”

Joly knew she loved Bossuet too, but she didn’t try to dissuade him from fighting, it seemed as if she actively encouraged it. But then she didn’t think Bossuet was incapable.

“Because of your leg?” Bahorel asked.

“Because of my leg,” Joly confirmed. He sighed as he looked to the side where his cane was resting against the table. “She is right I suppose. I can’t fight, I don’t belong here.”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

“Joly you are our friend,” Bahorel said vehemently. “Of course you are always welcome—”

“That is the problem though!” Joly interrupted. The words burned in his mouth, but even so he knew it was the truth. He had known all his life there would be things he couldn’t do; he just hadn’t realized those things would matter to him so much. “I am your friend, but I’m not a fighter. I might belong at your dinner parties but explain to me how I belong at your barricade?”

“You are a smart man with great ideas,” Bahorel insisted. “And a medical student to boot! You are a great help to our cause.”

“Combeferre is already both those things.”

Bahorel frowned at the comparison. “Combeferre’s skills don’t make yours any less valuable—”

“Bahorel please,” Joly begged Bahorel to stop what would surely be a bombardment of unearned compliments. “I know my own flaws. I know I wouldn’t stand a chance in a real fight.”

“You don’t need to know how to fight to be useful,” Bahorel said seriously. “And you don’t need to be useful to belong here. Isn’t that one of the things we are fighting for?”

“I suppose.”

Joly knew Bahorel was right about that much at least. Valuing people on how useful they were was one of the many things that made Enjolras furious. Joly has always been inclined to agree, he didn’t think that there was anyone who wasn’t worth saving, a point some of his professors disagreed upon. But even if his value as a person was not decided by his fighting skill, his value to this cause surely was.

“You should come boxing with Grantaire and I one of these days,” Bahorel said suddenly.

“Me?” Joly couldn’t control the loud laugh that left him. “Boxing?”

“If knowing how to fight matters that much to you, we could teach you a few things,” Bahorel shrugged as if the offer wasn’t something out of his way.

“Thank you, truly,” Joly said, “but I literally can’t.”

“It couldn’t hurt you to learn just a little bit to protect yourself,” Bahorel continued ignoring Joly’s skeptical expression. “We’ll only teach you things you could feasibly do, like how to throw a punch while still leaning on your cane.”

“That is very kind of you but—”

“You don’t need to learn if you don’t want to, you are fine as you are,” Bahorel said firmly in an attempt to hammer home the sincerity of his words. “But if it really matters to you, I would be happy to teach you.”

Joly stuttered out a breath. In his mind, he expected Bahorel of all people to agree about his uselessness on the battlefield.

“Maybe knowing a bit of self defense will quell some of Musichetta’s fears,” Joly considered.

“Maybe,” Bahorel shrugged. “But either way you three are going to have to talk about this at some point.”

“I know,” Joly sighed deflating into his chair. “But maybe not today.”

“You are welcome to spend the night at my place,” Bahorel offered. It was a truly kind offer and Joly felt guilty accepting after Bahorel already offered to spend time teaching him, but he needed some time to think. Besides Bossuet and Musichetta probably wanted some time to think things over too.

“I’ll buy us a bottle for the road,” Joly agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I have a lot to say about this story. Firstly, please don’t hate Musichetta. Her concerns were, to some degree, valid. I am not in the opinion that it is ableist to simply mention that someone has a disability or physically cannot do something. On the contrary, when my friends bring up the fact that I have health issues and can’t do something, I am happy that they remembered and were willing to make other plans for me. We don’t know exactly what was said during Joly and Musichetta’s argument, we only see it through Joly’s self-deprecated POV. So Musichetta being concerned is not inherently ableist. The real problem would be her trying to control him or not allowing him to make his own decisions. Which maybe happened, maybe didn’t, I will leave that for you to decide. But my point is, this is a complicated issue.
> 
> Secondly, the idea that a disabled person needs to “beat” their disability is very very toxic and causes a ton of issues within the disabled community. So, Joly learning to fight and “beat” his disability is big yikes. But that was not the point I was trying to make here. Bahorel says multiple times that his ability to fight doesn’t matter, he is only offering to be nice (and because they are going into a life or death situation and knowing a little bit might save his life). Similarly, learning purely to make someone else happy, isn’t healthy. So, a lot is happening here that isn’t very healthy and I don’t want to portray it like it is, but life and relationships are complicated sometimes.
> 
> The title is from “Body Terror Song” by AJJ. It is on my Joly playlist ([listen here if you want!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5QwFKTFmQsZD4w7YtGhvxg))
> 
> I attempted to tackle a heavy subject here, I am sorry if it upset anyone and I would love to hear other people’s opinions on these issues.
> 
> [Here](https://lesbianjolllly.tumblr.com/) is my Les Mis side blog! Feel free to talk to me about this fic, my others or anything else!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Take care and stay safe!


End file.
